Although
very new in the 1940s, the term 'COMMANDO' is in widespread use
today - often, though thankfully not always, associated with improbably
muscular supermen firing improbably lethal weapons at equally
improbable foes. In fact the term originated in South Africa, at the
turn of the nineteenth century, when Boer irregulars took on the might
of the British Army, their combination of skill, intelligence,
self-sufficiency and cunning being far more reflective of the later
Commando ethos than any concoction ever to emanate from Hollywood.

Continuing
the theme of highly trained and highly motivated minorities acting
offensively in the stead of more conventional forces, the British,
in the dark days which followed the evacuation of most of their
expeditionary force from Dunkirk, resurrected the idea of employing
élite 'storm' troops to stage hit and run attacks on the enemy
coast. Thus were born the British 'Army' Commandos, consisting of
hand-picked volunteers from existing formations whose desire to leave
for 'Special Service' was not always greeted warmly by their
line commanders. So used are we now to the existence and
indispensability of Special Forces, it is perhaps hard to grasp just
how much resistance there actually was to these new formations - all
the way from the most junior commanders up to the War Office itself.
Indeed growing resistance to the departure of the brightest and best of
their men led to a recruiting crisis, solved by the formation of Royal Marines Commandos in February, 1942.

Commando memorial, Spean Bridge, November 2012

In
an image again fostered by the media, soldiers of the period are
generally considered to have inhabited a world entirely divorced from
civilian communities. They lived an unremittingly communal lifestyle,
in barracks or encampments from which they were only occasionally
granted leave. Discipline, often harshly applied, legislated against
expressions of individuality; and drill attuned the mind to following
orders without the need of independent thought. Here could be found
attitudes and qualities entirely antipathetic to the new formations,
for whom individuality and independence of thought were everything. No
'dyed in the wool' officers; no screaming NCOs; just space within which
to develop the qualities that would allow each man to think and act
creatively even in extremis.

For a start, and as befitted a
light striking force which could appear and disappear at a moment's
notice, the Commandos had no permanent facilites. Instead of barracks,
they lived within the community, feeding and housing themselves
out of a living allowance whose value on the ground depended again on
each individual's creativity and negotiating skills. Accommodation
included hotels,
boarding houses and even private homes, whose
complement of Commandos soon became 'our boys' and honourary members of
the family. Depending on where the unit happened to be stationed, men
could even retire, when dismissed, to their own wives and
homes. Three short passages from Michael Burn's, 'Turned Towards the Sun'
highlight just how different these arrangements were:

(p116) 'No
barracks, no more bugles or wakey-wakey, no more tents, no regimental
silver, no battle honours or famous dead, but landladies with teapots
calling us to do or die and inspiringly appointed leaders under whom to
establish a tradition.'

(p121) 'We were at Moffat, in Dumfriesshire, a blessed place for us all. HQ
was thirty miles away at Dumfries. Tom (Peyton, killed at
Saint-Nazaire) and I lived at the Star Hotel
whose proprietors, Mr and Mrs Butler, had become surrogate parents to
us all, and Mrs Butler, with a son on service far away, so much a
mother that I gave it out that no one was to marry a local girl without
her approval. Their bar became a meeting-place for all ranks.'

And
finally in a rather wistful comment to his mother, Lady Burn - (p118)
'We are all grossly overfed and spoilt. One has to knock at the door
and ask if the soldiers are in when one wants them, and instead of
issuing orders for a parade, I am thinking of sending out cards:
Captain Burn At Home 0900 to 1300 hrs. Uniform. RSVP. Please bring your
rifle'.

Lance-Sergeant
Des Chappell, of 1 Commando, fondly remembered when as a Bren-gunner,
he was able to go home and leave the weapon with his wife Frances, who would
then strip and clean it like an expert. When stationed in Scotland,
Lieutenant Tom Peyton's young wife Cécilie would take part in Commando
exercises, acting as impromptu courier, or pretend 'spy'. Wherever
Commandos were billeted, housewives and landladies had to become used
to finding pistols, hand-grenades and various types of explosives
strewn about the place. This was soldiering of a different order which,
when allied to revolutionary training regimes, produced men for whom
rank or status was not an issue, who could think, act and provide for
themselves, and to whom could be entrusted tasks as daunting and
dangerous as the assault on Saint-Nazaire. Given the loss of the
boats that were supposed to take them home; given the geographical
impossibility of their position; and given the sheer scale of the
forces ranged against them, who else but Commandos could have taken the
decision to break out of Saint-Nazaire rather than accept defeat and
bring the suffering of their many wounded to an end?

Standing as
a prime example of the qualities which made Commandos 'different', is
Lieutenant Colonel Augustus Charles Newman, Military Force Commander on
the raid, and C.O. of No.2 Commando, the unit which provided all of
'CHARIOT's 'assault' and 'protection' parties. He is described below
by Captain Michael Burn, who commanded No. 6 Troop, this quote also
deriving from Micky's autobiography, 'Turned Towards the Sun' (see the
'Links' page for details)

"Numerous
heroes and born leaders came my way in the Commandos....Charles Newman
is the one I am most thankful to have had as our Colonel. He was
thirty-eight, a Territorial officer with sixteen years in the Essex
Regiment, by profession a building engineer, in politics Conservative
and very 'sound', married, unlike nearly all of us, with a family,
convivial, gregarious, a non-intellectual, ringside, rugger-playing
hearty, who also played jazz and music-hall on the piano. The Commando
became an extension of his family. To me Charles remained volunteer,
almost civilian; when forcing his way into a house (in Saint-Nazaire)
and knocking steel helmets against an emerging German, the first thing
he said was 'Sorry'. He imposed discipline, but lightness bubbled up;
sternness came out of a necessary tap. I do not say that he made war
fun. The purpose of a soldier in war is to kill and not be killed. But
I reckon that he saw training as a kind pf playing-field: not for him
at Eton, on which the battle of Waterloo may or may not have been won,
but somewhere more gritty, familiar to those his Essex Regiment had
trained in peacetime, 'all these lads from Barking and East Ham' (he
wrote in his diary), ' we knew all their families and loved them all.'
He allowed, it was in his nature, that some at least of our training
should be fun." (p122)

Initially
rather 'ad hoc', Commando training became more formalized in the Spring
of 1942 when Achnacarry Castle, the ancestral home of the Camerons of
Lochiel, became their Basic Training Centre - where, incidentally,
Commandos and American Rangers trained together. As a consequence of
the gradual move of Commandos to Scotland, this wonderfully scenic area
has come to be permanently associated with these élite
units, whose memorial is now situated at Spean Bridge where veterans, families and friends gather each Remembrance Day.